Revelations 6:8
Revelations 6:8
Summary: Commander Sheridan speaks to Cygnus about the upcoming memorial.
Date: Post Holocaust - Day 3
Related Logs: Related Logs None

Cygnus had been in the recovery ward checking on Fenris, whom he'd served with on the Solaria when the call had come through on the com. He'd quickly said his farewells then double timed it up to the ward room, only getting turned around once. A fact he was pretty proud of. Once inside the hatchway he quickly snaps to attention, posture straight and stiff as he raises his arm and had in a brisk salute, "Marius Cygnus, reporting as ordered, Sir."

It's not quite as intimidating as being called to the Commander's private room and office, but the Ward Room is distinctly quiet with a subtle tension lingering in the air, like recent conversations in here have not been pleasant. Right now Sheridan is seated at the head of the table, an aide leaning over his shoulder pointing to something in a file. Sheridan's gaze slides up as Cygnus announces himself, the salute smartly returned. "At ease, El Tee. Have a seat." The one to the Commander's right is indicated.

Cygnus allows the tension in his posture to subside some, slipping into a more eased stance then walks over to the indicated chair and takes a seat. The energy in the room is tense and subdued, a manifestation perhaps of all that had occured over the past several days, and Mac could understand its occurance. He keeps his demeanor subdued as he asks in a hushed voice, "You wanted to see me, Sir?"

Sheridan gives a curt nod of his head. "The Chaplain has already been briefed as to what to expect at my Address this evening. She will be busy with arrangements at the Chapel so therefore the duties of leading a memorial service after my speech will fall to you." His hand clenches in a fist before fingers uncurl to pick up a glass of water, of which he takes a drink to rewet his throat. The expression on his face retains its serious mask. "The following information I am going to impart to you, must remain under gag order until this evening. So much as a murmur of this to the gods that can be overheard by mortal ears will land you in the brig until you are old and grey, is that perfectly clear, Lieutenant?"

Cygnus feels the blood run from his face, and in an odd little way time seems to fold in on itself. When the ship had returned to condition two the night before, Mac had breathed a sigh of relief, believing that perhaps the horrors of his nightmares were to remain just that; a nightmare. The sensation that gripped at his spine with icy tendrils, however, gave him an inkling that he wasn't going to like affirmation of those distrubing visions that were likely about to come. At first he can't quite find his voice and is forced to clear his throat a bit before stating, "Yes, Sir. Crystal, Sir."

Sheridan's fingers lace together, hands folding ontop of the folder in front of him as he addresses Cygnus. "Tonight, your service will not just be for the hundreds who perished aboard the Constantine, but rather for millions." He lets that settle for just a moment, before he continues. "We have word back from the colonies. The Cylons have crossed the Armastice line. They've crossed it and delivered a wide spread nuclear strike on the Colonies. We've lost them."

For a moment it feels almost as if the room is spinning, though Cygnus shows no outward signs of this in front of his commanding officer. He's seen this, the horrific, gory details in all their grotesque glory flickering behind the screen of his eyelids night after night. And then they'd simply… stopped after the Kharon had jumped in to assist the Constantine. A low, deep breath whistles its way out of him as he softly quotes an obscure scriptural lament, "Our family is strong but scattered, across the stars and fields. We will not abandon you. We will not forget you. We will return for you." There's a pause, a moment in time where the words hang in the air, "Help us Lords of Kobol, we offer this prayer."

Sheridan lifts his chin just slightly higher at the prayer said by Cygnus, the Commander clearing his throat before he continues. "So say us all. You have your orders, Lieutenant. Unless you have any questions, you are dismissed." Probably before emotion can run over.

Cygnus gives a brief nod to the commander, his mind racing, still attempting to digest what he's just been told. "Yes, Sir," His voice is subdued now, almost as if spoken from a distance as he rises from the chair. "Sir," He offers quietly, "If there's anything I can do to help…" He knows the offer isn't stritcly 'military' per se, but given the circumstances they all now found themselves in, perhaps the words were understandable. Drawing himself up into his full height, he snaps another salute. "I'll do my best for you - for all of those we've lost - tonight, Sir."

Sheridan returns the salute. "I trust you will." And before the Lieutenant has even had a chance to vacate the ward room, the Commander is on to other things, no doubt having more than his share on his plate.

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